Letting Go
by Catsitta
Summary: Requested by Kichi Hisaki: Tifa told Cloud to move on with his life. To let go. He couldn't. At least, he did not think he could. Time Travel/AU. SephirothxCloud. Two-shot. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

This should have been written and posted a long time ago. Anywho, this was requested by Kichi Hisaki, and the exact prompt will be kept a secret…for now. And I've began, and rewritten this story a good half dozen times, so enjoy.

**Pairing(s): **Sephiroth x Cloud with hints of one sided Cloud x Tifa

**Word Count**: 7,554

**Disclaimer: **Nope. I still owe nothing but the plotline.

**Letting Go**

**By Catsitta**

**.x.**

"Go all alone 'cause I won't follow. This isn't giving up, this is letting go. Out with the old dreams I've borrowed. The path I call from here on out will be my own. A path to take me home." _This is Letting Go_ by Rise Against

**.1.**

"That's it! I'm cutting you off Cloud."

The addressed, blue-eyed, blond swordsman lifted his gaze from the shattered bottle that he held in hand. Memories had this annoying tendency to surface at the most inopportune moments, and unfortunately, most of his were creations straight out of a normal person's nightmare. Thus when one flickered in his mind's eye, it startled him from his dozy stupor and hardened, SOLDIER instincts kicked in…

What a waste of perfectly good beer.

Cloud flexed his hand and shook the glass shards and spilt alcohol away. Only a few pieces managed to pierce his leather gloves and even fewer broke through skin. He could feel his body healing, the mako permeated into his system burning and forcing his metabolism into high gear. Bits of glass were pushed to the surface, rejected, and soon blood clotted, congealed before being rapidly replaced by new skin.

It was a process so familiar to him that he was hardly even aware of it happening anymore.

"Tifa," he kept his voice low, if only to mask the raggedness of disuse,"you know SOLDIERs can't get drunk." His body treated it like a poison and promptly boiled it away. The closest Cloud had ever come to becoming inebriated due to his drinking habits was when he was, at the same time, suffering from severe blood loss. He had come to the bar after a particularly brutal battle and had drunk his pains away until his head spun and what remained of his blood felt as if it were on fire.

Unfortunately, the sensation had passed all too quickly.

The brunette bartender snorted with disbelief before wiping the counter, cleaning away all evidence of the bottle being broken. "It doesn't matter. You shouldn't drink. It's not healthy, Cloud, acting as if you will find all the answers to your problems at the bottom of a shot glass."

"I stopped taking shots years ago," the blond pointed out, as if to defend his case, but he knew that look in Tifa's eye. He had already lost this argument.

"No…you haven't. You just treat the whole damn bottle like one big shot!"

He dropped his eyes. He could no longer meet Tifa's passionate stare. Those sable eyes bespoke of fear, anger and grief…She wanted him to be someone he wasn't. She wanted him to be her hero. She wanted him to be the final piece of her perfect family. Cloud knew that he would never be that man. He would never be able to give her what she wanted…needed. He was broken, a shell of what he once was and could have been. Gaia! He did not even know who he was some days, his mind was so fractured.

She needed someone who could hold her, support her, love her. And he…he was a monster. And monsters did not fall in love, certainly not with beautiful women like Tifa.

"Cloud…" it was painful hearing her voice filled with such confusion.

"What do you want from me, Tifa?"

There was a moment's worth of hesitation and then,"I want you to stay. I need you, Cloud. And Denzel needs a father…he's growing up, but there is no one to show him what it means to be a man." The brunette reached forwards and placed a hand on his shoulder, the heat of her skin warming the leather encasing it. "Please."

"No," Cloud stood, shrugging her away,"I'm not the man you or he needs in your life. Find someone else…move on, Tifa. Let go of your childish fantasy of marrying some hero who comes to your rescue! You know that we never could, and never will, work out."

Tifa balked for a moment before curling her hand into a fist and dropping it to her thigh. Her lips pressed firmly together briefly before she snapped in response,"When will you grow up and take responsibility, Cloud? When will YOU let go of your nightmares? The past is the past, when will YOU stop living in it!"

The blond was silent and instead of walking away, he snatched from another customer a half-filled mug. After downing the contents, he peered through the faceted glass at the woman his childhood friend had become. At nearly thirty, she was at the prime of her adult life, and possessed a body that any man would love to wrap his arms around at night. She was short, busty and lithely muscular—a martial artist who also could have been a lingerie model sort of build. And it was not as if she hid much beneath her white half-top, unzipped leather vest and hip-hugging shorts. Tifa had to have suitors crawling at her feet.

She was also watching him with disappointment.

Lowering the mug to the bar's counter, Cloud did everything he could not to look at Tifa. He scanned the room, noting how there were only a couple people lingering in the early hours of morning, most of who were drunk out of their minds, much like the man whom he stole the drink from (who was, at the moment, still staring at his hands as if uncomprehending on how his mug had suddenly vanished). The tables and chairs were skewed, the fluorescent lights above flickered and the pinball machine in the corner blinked sullenly. Then his gaze dropped to the counter and he examined the grooves of the wood grain, followed their sinewy paths; noted each circular watermark marring the dark varnish, as well as every stain.

His fingers twitched with the inane urge to trace these blemishes with his fingers, but he refrained from doing so and tore his gaze towards the door.

"Cloud…"

"See ya around, Teef." he knew now was the time to walk away.

"Cloud Strife! Don't you dare run away from me again."

The blond ignored her and kept moving. If he stopped now…

Two hands, one at either shoulder, forced him around in an astounding display of strength. His eyes widened before dropping to the floor. Tifa was crying…they were hurt, angry tears, but still…the monster had made the girl cry. Next thing Cloud knew, he was flat on his back, the right side of his face stinging. "What—?" he began, but the brunette was already helping him up onto his feet, her grip like iron bands around his wrist.

"Stay," she commanded.

"I…"

"No. No excuses. Just…just one night, Cloud. Stay one night. It's late, you're in no shape to be on that monstrosity you call a motorcycle, and…You owe Denzel just a few minutes of your time. He idolizes you, Cloud. It hurts him to see you keep running away like this." '_You hurt me,'_ she implied through her incoherent rambling. Tifa was grasping for straws, any reason to make him stay, they both knew it…but for the first time, out of all the times she offered or demanded he stay the night…he nodded his acceptance. He owed her that much…

The brunette's eyes lit up.

Soon, Cloud found himself ushered into a small, cramped room with two beds taking over most of the space. He sighed, feeling guilty. It was the same as it had always been. She had kept both beds despite the fact that the blond had taken to sleeping in Aerith's church, years ago, when he was in town. Both were wood-framed and covered in clean, plaid-printed sheets—reminiscent of Nibelhiem. In fact, much of the room bore trace reminders of that backwater, mountain village in which they grew up. From the woven rugs strewn across the floor, to the deceptively simple dresser and cabinet in the corners, to the small hand-carved nick-knacks and sketches that sat in every inch of unused space.

He picked one of said sketches up, curiosity getting the better of him.

Surprisingly, it was one of his first drafts of Fenrir. The motorcycle he actually built looked nothing like the Hardy Daytona knock-off drawing he held in hand.

Memories suddenly assaulted him. Thus he clamped his eyes shut and allowed for the gridded, blue paper to return to its rightful place.

The headache did not pass as it usually did.

Instead it lingered, swelled, and pounded violently at the crown of his skull. Cloud gritted his teeth and massaged his hurts. Perhaps sleeping in a bed for a change would harbor pleasant dreams and a restful night. He could not remember the last time he actually slept…

He took a step backwards, and the world began to spin, his conscious mind swimming in an incomprehensible jumble of unconscious thoughts. Whispers hissed in his ears like radio static and images flickered behind his eyes like grainy scraps of film. Cloud swore he saw his whole life flash before his eyes…ONLY his life. Not scraps of Zack's. Not the lies he had once perceived as the truth…but his life. The one he had wanted to leave behind, only to find himself desperate to regain once he lost it.

The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. His legs buckled. In the midst of his collapse, Cloud swore he saw Aerith reaching for him. Time seemed play out in slow motion as he tried to grasp the flower girl's dainty hand in his own. She smiled at him, her emerald eyes pulsing with the ethereal glow of the Lifestream; her swirled, chestnut bangs floating as if upon the surface of an unseen body of water—wisps of energy tangling around her form in diaphanous ribbons of luminescent green.

Right before their fingers touched, Cloud felt his back hit the plush comfort of the mattress…

…then his world went dark.

When he next opened his eyes, light flooded over him, cold and unrelenting. With only a mild hitch in his breathing from surprise, the blond propped himself up on his elbows, blinking away the spots that decided the collect in his vision. Mako-enhancements had their drawbacks—such as his acute senses being rather…sensitive. Bright lights, sharp or loud sounds and particular odors were ten times more offensive than they would be to a normal human. Of course, he adjusted like anyone else, but the initial discomfort was always disconcerting.

As his vision came into focus, Cloud stopped breathing. His eyes widened with disbelief and his whole body went rigid.

_'I'm in a hospital,' _his mind offered unhelpfully. He hated hospitals. He had doctors. He hated anything to do with the medical industry.

In his state of panic, the blond did not consider the consequences of ripping the IV's from his arms—which prompted the machines monitoring his vitals to begin flashing and chirping in alarm. All he was aware of was his instinctive need to escape. Whatever was wrong with him that prompted Tifa to bring him here was over with…so he was getting the heck out!

Groping blindly, the blond managed to untangle the sheet from his legs so that he could swing them to the side and stand up.

His whole body had begun to tremble with adrenaline intermixed with phobia fueled anxiety.

White. So much white. He was drowning in a sea of white. White walls. White floors. White cot. White sheets. White curtain. White light from above…And bleach…the whole place reeked of bleach.

He had to get out. He had to escape the suffocating whiteness of the room.

Cloud stumbled towards the curtain, ignoring the weakness in his limbs, the draftiness of his loose hospital gown, and the sticky feeling of his bare feet against the tiles. Though he did hesitate when he realized that he was not in one of the private rooms of Edge's Memorial Hospital. Instead, the curtain revealed a series of empty cots and other, likely occupied and curtained off ones.

The last time he had been in a hospital room with this many people confined to it was when he was a Cadet enlisted in the SOLDIER program. The military had its own medical wing connected to the main building of the ShinRa Tower, and its purpose seemed to be to care for as many people at once as in as short amount of time as possible as cheaply as possible.

Realizing this did not help his state of mind any.

Cloud hated ShinRa even more than he hated hospitals.

He then conceded that the only thing that would make this nightmare—'_Gaia, please let it be a nightmare!'—_worse would be if that deranged lunatic Professor Hojo returned from the dead to torture him with needles, and tests and mako tanks.

"What are you doing?" Cloud, whom had begun to scramble through the room, heard a sharp voice inquire. He stilled for a moment, wide-eyed, as a young woman in a crisp lab coat and wire-rimmed glasses approached. Her hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, only a few strands laying stray against her cheek, and in hand she held a clipboard. And, she was walking his way, a sharpness to her step trademark of the military trained, her stride long and powerful for a woman of her lean stature.

The blond stood his ground, noting the fact that this was no gentle Miss. She was as much a soldier as he if the way she moved was anything to judge by.

"Well boy?" the doctor, whom was a couple inches taller than he (Odd, she had to be tall for a woman. He was small for a man at five foot eight inches, but he had to look slightly up at her) was soon within arm's reach. "Answer me, Cadet!"

Cadet? Cloud tilted his head to the side, presenting himself as aloof as possible despite his racing heart and mind. He wanted out of there. He needed out of there. And this woman was in his way. Deciding that this was all some bizarre nightmare he needed to work his way through, the blond dropped into a crouch and swung his leg in a clean arc, catching the woman around the knees and causing her to crumple to the ground.

Immediately he rose up again, before sprinting towards the exit.

Which, Cloud discovered, was blocked by an influx of nurses.

His brain registered the fact and promptly decided that the best course of action would be to plow forwards and pray to Gaia that they had the common sense to get out of his way. Most of them did, the blond noted, as he bowed his shoulders and charged. However, a couple remained steadfast, a none too pleasant glint in their eyes.

"Security!" someone shouted.

"Grab him," another commanded.

"He's obviously suffering from a breakdown," observed a third.

One of the nurses, a bulky male with a buzz cut and a thick scar on the left side of his face that left him with a permanently crooked grin, set himself into a defensive stance, his feet spread for balance. He expected Cloud to crash straight into his chest.

The blond in question, however, had different plans and none of them involved grappling with a behemoth posing as a medical professional.

Cloud hit the ground again, sliding easily between the man's legs before leaping up and continuing to run as if nothing had even bothered to intercept him. Adrenaline coursed through his system, setting his blood aflame. His muscles burned with the familiar ache of mako flooding into his bloodstream and granting him access to the high-energy mutagen's power. As he dodged both doctors and what looked to be armed soldiers, Cloud's world seemed to fall into slow motion.

Years of fighting, not only to stay alive, but to save the very world from those who seek to destroy it, had crafted him into the perfect SOLDIER. His mind and body were in harmony with the mako humming in his veins—an achievement that only Cloud and one other could claim. The other being the man whose clone Professor Hojo had attempted to turn Cloud into.

The first son of Jenova.

Sephiroth.

And in his failure, Hojo had created something greater. Something that felled his prized specimen not once, but thrice.

The perfect monster.

Cloud pushed all thoughts of Hojo, Sephiroth and his own monstrous nature aside. Now was not the time to wallow in old hurts. Now was the time to escape this place.

_'Tifa, what possessed you to bring me to a damn hospital?'_ She often told him that he needed help, that he was not well. But the brunette knew better than to take him within ten miles of doctor's office. So what changed? Did he fall into a coma or something and she panicked?

The blond's thoughts were shattered by the sound of a gun firing.

A rubber pellet glanced off his arm.

To an unenhanced person, that would have hurt. To a SOLDIER, it was mildly irritating. Especially when more pelted against his barely clothed form. Cloud hissed with frustration and ended up ducking through a swath of nurses to avoid further assault. Now, where was the exit?

Blue eyes quickly centered on an elevator door.

There were armed men in front of it, their weapons raised and ready. Cloud counted them and decided that he could handle five soldiers easily enough without his sword or materia.

"Halt!" one of the men, whom had a fancy gold emblem on his helmet that signified rank, commanded. "Or we will use deadly force." Ah, that meant they had real bullets in those semi-automatics. Getting hit by one of those would actually hurt.

Cloud smirked.

Stopping now was not an option.

So he didn't.

He heard the rattle of gunfire and felt the sharp sting of bullets grazing his skin. The mako in his system continued to burn, its presence flaring to life behind his eyes, giving the pale pools of blue a luminescent quality. To many, the sight of intensely glowing eyes typically meant a sharp spike of emotion, but to others, those experienced with SOLDIERs, it signaled a possible battle rage. The gunmen made audible noises of surprise and hesitated in their fire.

Apparently they had not expected to be dealing with someone mako-enhanced.

But they recovered faster than predicted. Rather than stop completely, they began to fire with more urgency, their helmets hiding all but the grim line of their mouths.

Cloud pressed onwards, jerking reflexively when the bullets imbedded into flesh.

It was in this haze of bittersweet numbness that a small part of the blond's mind sparked with realization. The thought was small and dormant, but soon it grew into a full-fledged epiphany. Memories assaulted him like flashes of cannon fire, blinding him with lightning bright intensity. These men, these armored guards, were not clad in the uniform of Continental military. They were the wrong color and the insignias were foreign…yet familiar.

As he reached the men, his hands wrapping around the gun belonging to the ranked officer so that he could rip it away, Cloud at last put two and two together, long since suppressed memories at last clawing their way to the surface. He saw the red diamonds. He knew what they meant. Horror as well as hatred surged forth and he nearly shattered the metal he clutched between his hands.

These were ShinRa soldiers.

Blind and deaf from all reason, Cloud reached out with one hand and grabbed the larger man's throat, aware that he was creating bruises beneath the high, starched collar of the blue uniform. He was no longer aware that the bullets had ceased to riddle his flesh, and that his excessive wounds were quickly healing, the invading metal rounds slowly being ejected and the tissue stitched back together. All he knew was that his head swam, not only from blood loss, adrenaline and pain, but from the massive wave of emotion that flooded him.

After so many years of trying to forget this part of his life...it was as if the demons of his past had been reincarnated just to terrorize him and drag him back into the blackest depths of oblivion.

And here, held tight in his grasp, was one of those demons. It would be so easy to snuff it out, just a little more pressure applied to the man's throat and his purple hue would fade to white.

Cloud let out a low, guttural growl.

A warning.

"L—let…let m—e….g-g-go…" the man managed to choke out, clearly struggling to remain conscious as he scratched vainly at Cloud's fingers, as if to pry them away. "P…please…Do—on't k-kill m-m-e. "

_'Why shouldn't I kill you?'_ the blond asked with his eyes, but he remained silent, his attention acutely focused on the erratic pulse beating wildly beneath his hand. There had been a time where he would have been appalled by his own actions and dropped the man, not wanting him to suffer. Tifa's scolding voice echoed in his ears, telling him to just that. But another part reminded him that he had been merciless at one time as well, willing to end any life that had a ShinRa label attached. It was how he saved the world, not through peaceful negotiations, but through the mindless decimation of armies and monsters as he fought to stop not only Meteor, but Sephiroth's ascension into godhood.

Only the memory of a gentle, green-eyed flower girl kept him from slipping back into that state of mind. He recalled her innocent love of all life, how she refused to kill and no matter a man's crime, she was willing to forgive. In death, she even forgave her killer when no else could. Cloud never understood why she did not hate Sephiroth for stealing her life, but Aerith's happy laughter assured him that her forgiveness was genuine. It was her purpose. And, she often told him, until he found his own and forgave himself for sins he did and did not commit, she would stay with him…and do her best to guide him to his own destiny.

Apparently, Cloud had not reached it yet.

Not even after all he went through, he had not fulfilled the purpose fate set out for him at his birth.

He felt the body he held aloft grow limp…the pulse slow but present. It brought him harshly back into reality. Thus, he dropped the unconscious soldier. What was he doing? What would more killing prove? In his hesitation, he found himself suddenly feeling disoriented and weak.

Mako burned through him, healing his hurts and enhancing his strength tenfold. It was a familiar rush. One that caused him more pain than any flesh wound ever would. It was why he, like any SOLDIER, appeared impervious to injury no matter how many hits he took. His kind kept fighting well past their physical limit and did not falter in stride until their death. Mortal wounds would slow him, but only once the heat of combat subsided and he could allow himself the luxury of acknowledging injury.

Instinctively, as he became aware of his state of injury, his left hand dropped to cradle his lower ribs and he felt warmth gush into a cupped palm.

Blue eyes glazed over and he swayed, the alert figures of armed men drawing slowly closer.

_'It's okay Cloud_,' Aerith said from somewhere within the fog filling his head. '_You do not have to fight._' But why? he wanted to ask. Why did he not have to fight? Why did he feel so weak? The adrenaline rush had abandoned him, leaving Cloud utterly drained as his body focused on healing itself. Had Aerith done that? Had she, from her place in the Lifestream, shattered his battle-induced haze? It would not have been the first time the half-cetra had interfered with the matters of the living.

He stumbled forwards; his free hand stretched before him…the formation that had been drawing closer, parted, uncertain of how to react after their leader was disabled. Cloud tottered over to the elevator and immediately found himself supporting his weight against the door. Never before had he felt this weak after a rush. What was going on?

He needed out, now.

It was then that the door slid open, dislodging Cloud and pitching him forwards…

…straight into the arms of the only occupant.

Panic temporarily seized him again, but a faint, motherly whisper caressed him. Cloud struggled briefly, but a few blinks later, he fell into the depth of unconsciousness.

.x.

_If you could have anything, what would it be? (All I want is for this nightmare to be over) Is that what you consider your life? A nightmare. (I've lost everything...including my humanity. Why would I want to continue living as a monster?) If you could do everything over again…change the course of history…would you? (Gaia, no! No. no. no. no. Never again.) Not even for a second chance? (Not even for a second chance)_

_Green eyes. Blue eyes. Sorrow. Greif. Hatred._

_ You need to let go of the past, Cloud._

_ (If I let go, what will remain of me?)_

_ Hope._

Cloud jackknifed from where he lay, his heart beating rapidly, sweat streaming down his face. All around him was darkness. No white. Thank Gaia, no white! The blond gingerly combed his fingers through his spiky mess of hair, the gravity defying locks ardently remaining in whichever direction they had chosen. Though, said locks felt longer…bouncier than he remembered.

He blinked.

He was in darkness.

His mako-enhanced vision typically cut through all but total blackness.

Cloud looked down and strained his vision in an attempt to see the hand laying in his lap. Nothing. He wiggled his fingers and curled them in the blanket that covered his legs. The fabric was rough, woolen and familiar. He lifted the blanket to his nose and inhaled, curious. It smelled clean, though there was a slightly musty, musky scent trademark of something older…perhaps kept safe from the passing of time in a trunk in a cool, dry place.

He shifted his weight and discovered that instead of a thin, medical cot beneath him, there was the firm comfort of a mattress.

It was then he sighed in relief. Just a dream. The whole thing was just…a…dream…? Cloud stiffened as he mulled over the thought, reminding himself of the total darkness and the fact that the bed he had collapsed in had felt fluffy and plush as he sank into it….fully clothed. The blond touched his arms, then his chest, quickly discovering his near nudity. It was very unlikely that Tifa stripped him to his boxers, and even if she had, he would have woken up in her attempt. No. He was still dreaming. He had to be…

But it felt eerily real…too real to be imagined.

So where was he? What was happening to him?

Cloud yet again swung his feet over the edge of the bed and his feet met unrelenting metal. He took a few steps, oddly uncertain upon his feet, as if they did not belong to him. The blond dispelled the ridiculous notion as he searched for a wall. Soon, his palms met more metal, cool and unyielding. It was then, as his skin met steel, that the lights flickered on, low and artificial…casting a sickly yellow glow against the reflective metal.

He leapt back, dropping into a fighting stance, as he prepared for attack…

…however, it never came.

The minutes crawled by and Cloud found himself alone in an empty room, save for the bed in the middle.

He eventually straightened himself. What was going on? Why was he in a room made of dark metal? Were there cameras watching his every move? Had he been taken captive by some sick madman seeking to recreate the SOLDIER program? Or worse, had Sephiroth returned from the dead, incapacitated him somehow, slaughtered his loved ones and taken Cloud hostage?

The last idea nearly threw him into a paranoid fit.

But he forced himself to remain calm. This was just another bizarre scenario he would get himself out of. It was nothing new. He just had to remain calm…yes, calm. Deciding he needed to put himself into a state of perfect calm, Cloud lowered on the ground and assumed the lotus position, his eyes fluttering shut. Yuffie had shown him how to meditate during their travels around the world, and for all of her childish games, she did have a certain level of work ethic. It was how she grew to become one of the more powerful members of the group despite her unenhanced body and youth. Through daily mediation and rigorous training of the mind, body and spirit, she became connected to every elemental aspect within herself as well as the aspects of the universe around her.

_Watch this! (Yuffie?) A tiny slip of a girl stood before him—her slanted, gray eyes glittering with mischief as a manic grin played upon her lips. Clad in a tank top; tiny, khaki shorts; and hiking boots—the little, tomboyish ninja did not look like much of a threat. Her dark, cropped hair tied back with a headband emphasized her youth…But the way she held her weapon of choice, a giant shuriken named Conformer, eliminated any doubt that she was a master of her art. _

_ Yuffie bounced away, her shuriken twirling playfully as she assumed a ready stance. _

_ Focus! That is the key part of uniting your energy with that of the physical world. Yuffie closed her eyes and took in a deep breath…and a split second later, her body and her weapon were a blur of motion. Conformer danced as effortlessly as its mistress and as she collected her inner energy, it began to glow, resonating with power. Then, Yuffie halted her fluid sequence and with a shout, split the very seam that separated the fabric of space and time. _

_ A blast of pure energy shot forth, devastating everything in her path. _

_ (Isn't that your newest limit break?)_

_ Yuffie grinned, but her whole body trembled from exertion. _

_ Yeah. Aint it cool? It's an old, ninja secret, but any whom master the flow of his or her own chi can eventually learn to control every aspect of their body…that includes limit breaks. Awesome, right? One day, I'll be able to perform All Creation whenever I want! And I'll be faster at it too…_

_ She laughed. _

_ Yuffie was always laughing._

Cloud opened his eyes as the memory dissipated.

It was in that instant that he knew something was terribly wrong.

He could sense _him_.

The blond's skin itched and his mind whirled. '_Reunion,' _his cells whispered. _'Mother.'_

A wall slid open and the sallow light seeped into the shadows leading into the unknown. Cloud was on his feet in two seconds flat, his every instinct flaring alive as he searched for anything in the room that could be used as a weapon. Oh, he missed First Tsurugi right about now. The fusion sword crafted from pieces of the Planet's WEAPONs was his pride and joy. Consisting of six separate, interlocking blades—it had gotten Cloud through some of his hardest battles, including Sephiroth's return during the Geostigma incident.

It was a blade that could slay mortal men and fallen angels alike.

And here he was, weaponless…defenseless…trapped.

As a tall, ominous figure filled the doorway, Cloud once again dropped into a fighting stance, prepared to prove his worth by refusing to go down without making one hell of an impression on someone's face! He did his best to recall all of the hand-to-hand Tifa and Yuffie had attempted to drill into his head, and balled his fists as he did so.

The figure in the doorway stood enshrouded by the shadows for a few heartbeats longer before slowly entering the room, the sound of his heavy boots against metal echoing in the silence. Cloud's eyes narrowed as he examined the intruder. Every inch of him declared that the man was Sephiroth, but the figure was not clad in the trademark battle armor of the fallen General. He was wearing black, yes, but it was a standard First Class SOLDIER uniform rather than a dramatic-looking trench coat and thigh-high boots.

In fact, if he did not know any better, this nondescript man before him could have been just about anyone. He was clad in a short-sleeved turtle neck and baggy cargo pants tucked into the tops of his army boots, which were neatly laced and reached just below the knee. The standard, dual belts were buckled around almost too lean hips and waist. And a cap (which was part of every SOLDIER's uniform, but many neglected to wear due to loose policies involving the matter) sat atop his head, the bill casting the distinct, glowing SOLDIER eyes in shadows.

There was no weapon on his person.

Without one he still radiated power and control, his movements that of a predator—the embodiment of lethal grace.

"Cadet Strife," murmured the uniformed man and Cloud's suspicions were confirmed. It was the deep, rumbling baritone of the one-winged angel. A voice so dark and sensual that it sent shivers down the blond's spine as he remembered their last encounter, how Sephiroth ordered Cloud to fall to his knees and beg for mercy and forgiveness. Even in the midst of insanity, the proud swordsman retained his infamous, chilling demeanor. His impenetrable calm enough to disconcert even the bravest of souls.

He was nightmare incarnate…

…with a face that an angel would envy.

Cloud balked at the thought. Why in Gaia's good name would such a thing come to mind at a time like this?

"Cadet. Strife." repeated the fallen General, his tone sharp with command. The blond could not help but take a wary step backwards. "Are you, or are you not, Cadet Cloud Strife?"

_'Cadet? What sick game is the psycho playing? Is he attempting to relieve his glory days as General by capturing me and attempting to convince me that I'm back to my Cadet days before ShinRa's fall?' _Cloud found himself nodding carefully as he watched the oddly uniformed General draw closer. Sephiroth soon, however, reached the outer limit of the blond's space bubble, and his overwhelming presence could no longer be tolerated with nonchalance. Blue eyes widened and a snarl ripped from Cloud's throat, "Stay back!"

Sephiroth paused, his head tilted almost imperceptibly to the left, the silence between them filled with question. "You are...different." He lifted one gloved hand to the brim of his cap and adjusted it, lifting the shadows away from his eyes just slightly. It took a moment to register, but Cloud realized that the man before him was acting…uncomfortable. Almost nervous. To anyone who knew him any less than he, they would see nothing of the sort, but those subtle gestures were uncharacteristic of the arrogant, overbearing SOLDIER he knew and loathed. "…Cloud."

"I said: Stay back!" Cloud felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Had he been inching backwards this entire time? Unable to continue his retreat, he knew that his next action would have to be forwards. A solid charge. His one chance at escape. "I don't know what kind of mind game you're playing, Sephiroth, but it's time for it to come to an end."

The swordsman's silver brows arched with surprise and his lips parted, softening the hard line that they had previously been forming. "I am not here to harm you…Cloud." Why was Sephiroth suddenly using his first name? What happened to the Cadet Strife nonsense? Whatever, when his mind game failed, he must have dropped that particular pretense. "Please, sit."

Sephiroth motioned towards the bed,"I wish to speak with you."

Cloud gritted his teeth and like a trapped animal, he blindly chose the obvious solution to his situation. Instead of sitting, he lunged forwards, hoping to skid beneath any attempt the General would make to stop him…unfortunately, the swordsman's reflexes were far superior to that of the doctors'. Just as Cloud believed he had dipped below Sephiroth's outstretched arm, the man moved in a blur of motion, looping the offending limb around the blond's waist and pulling him off the ground.

Air rushed out of his lungs. Cloud then proceeded to blink, breath…and panic. Like a cat, he writhed against his captor, thrashing his whole body as he twisted, curled and bucked. He felt his knuckles meet the smooth plane of a cheek and his elbow clipped the larger man's jaw as his heel sank into a muscled thigh. The blond was desperate and was prepared to start clawing and biting if need be, but the mighty SOLDIER quickly disabled him, tossing the other swordsman facedown onto the floor as he wrestled both arms behind Cloud's back.

Indignant, Cloud began to spit insults.

Sephiroth said nothing in response to the slurs against his manhood. Instead, he perched himself upon the blond's legs to keep them from kicking and held Cloud prone on the floor until he stopped fighting. Which took longer than the man likely expected.

As his efforts were realized to be in vain, Cloud grew still and glanced hatefully at the General. When would this nightmare end? After all, he had been captured and manhandled by his worst enemy and had been unable to break free of his clutches and become the hero…Ah, screw being the hero. It was not all it was cracked up to be…All he wanted was to wake up!

"Ready to listen?" Sephiroth's voice was thick and sultry, and Cloud hated it! That silky, seductive tone haunted Cloud's every waking moment. He would hear the General mocking him from every shadow, his whispers replaying inside the blond's head like broken record. And to make things worse, Cloud was not certain whether the man had always spoken that way or if that tone was his ears only. "I am not here to harm you, Cloud. I wish to help."

"Liar!" Cloud spat.

"I am many things," the General lowered his voice into the softest of whispers,"but a liar I am not. I promise you, Cloud, my intentions are earnest."

With an indignant snort, the blond glared spitefully at his reflection on the floor. The metal was a dark, murky shade of metal; and with the diffused light pouring from above, he could barely discern the outline of his face from the inky shadow cast by his captor. This was it. This was the end. He would die here and now in this humiliating position at the hand of his worst enemy. Gaia damn it all!

Apparently taking Cloud's silence as a form of acquiescence, Sephiroth shifted his weight and loosened his iron grip. However, he kept his body above the blond's, clearly ready to subdue the smaller male at a moment's notice.

"You are Cadet Cloud Strife," Sephiroth began,"Hometown: Nibelhiem. Age: Fourteen. Height: Five foot three inches. Weight: One-hundred and fifteen pounds. Six months previous you enlisted in the ShinRa military academy. Your education track is that of SOLDIER." Cloud gritted his teeth. The sicko was still attempting to play the whole 'Cadet' game? Did he have some fucked up fantasy involving him as a Cadet that he wanted to play out? Just thinking about it made him ill. After all, the man had to be over thirty by now, even if he never physically appeared to age a day past twenty-one, and he was trying to convince Cloud that he was some fourteen year old kid!

"One week ago you were admitted to the medical ward's emergency unit in a comatose state, a status resulting from a severe reaction to initial mako testing. Your body rejected the principle dosage…yet, earlier this morning you displayed characteristics of SOLDIER level enhancement. Unaccustomed to the rigors presented by mako enhancement, your body fell into a state of shock. Then you were taken here…the Dark Room, to recover and await further assessment." Sephiroth then paused and added in what was presumably a reassuring tone,"Mako enhancement can occasionally lead to temporary, psychological abnormities such as paranoia, disorientation, anxiety or even partial amnesia."

Cloud blinked…then rested his forehead against the floor, wishing away the scene. Only, the scene did not change. Sephiroth's weight remained on his back. And he was stuck listened to the man bullshit about why Cloud was here. "I'm going crazy," he muttered,"after all these years, I've finally lost it. Here I am hallucinating or dreaming or something about Sephiroth, ShinRa and SOLDIER. Why in Gaia's name am I stuck in this delusion?"

"Cloud," the blond peered through the corner of his eye up at the General, whom was staring down at him with a curious, albeit concerned, expression upon his typically stoic face. Great, now he was personifying the figment of his imagination as having emotions! Sephiroth was a cruel, domineering block of ice who wouldn't know of humor or compassion for the human race if it walked up to him and poked him in one of his freaky, slit-pupil eyes. "I am here and telling you these things because I wish to help."

"Liar!" it was a natural reaction on Cloud's part. The Sephiroth he knew was a master manipulated who would do or say almost anything to get what he wanted.

The fallen General seemed unfazed and merely cocked his head to the left, this time more noticeably. Why did he keep doing that!?

"It is understandable that you would not trust me or my intentions," Sephiroth released Cloud's arms, a silent gesture that the blond did not quite trust nor understand. "And the situation you have found yourself in is quite unique. But understand that I have been in your shoes, Cloud. I know what traumas you had to have faced recently…and at whose hands those traumas were caused by." Was that sympathy he was hearing? "Know that I will not allow that…monster to harm you again. It is the least I can do considering…"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Hojo," was Sephiroth's ominous reply.

Hojo? HOJO! Cloud drew in a panicked breath to soothe his anxiety ridden lungs, but it did not help. He felt as if he were suffocating. Sephiroth was bad enough to have in a nightmare, but at least Sephiroth had the curtsey to fight honorably and when he killed, he always killed with a clean efficiency. Hojo on the other hand took the word atrocity to a new level. Cloud often still had night terrors involving his years of torture spent at Hojo's hands. The screams of pain from both himself and Zack echoed and intermingled with the madman's wicked laughter and frustrated muttering. _Failure_, Hojo had called him, his experiments not gaining him the desired results. It had been bittersweet relief when the man became bored with his idle experiments and left Cloud to die, comatose and unresponsive whilst floating a tank of mako.

The blond did not realize he was hyperventilating until Sephiroth began to stroke his back in a…comforting manner. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Where was all the taunting and fighting and…and…of god, Hojo was here somewhere! Cloud shivered and held his breath, more desperate than ever to awake.

"My presumptions were correct," the General stated, a sliver of disdain coloring his cool tone. "Hojo has harmed you…but you escaped…or he deemed you a failure." Sephiroth, to Cloud's dismay, gathered the smaller blond in his arms in an awkward attempt to offer a comforting embrace. Had Cloud been in any better shape mentally or emotionally, he would have resumed his struggles for freedom. But he couldn't. It was too much. At the moment, Sephiroth was the lesser of two evils he would apparently have to face in this…nightmare…(Or was it reality? Had Aerith…had she really done the impossible? Had she found some way to turn back time and grant him an unwanted second chance at life? If so, he had a few choice words to share when he saw her next.)

"Relax Cloud. I will keep you safe."

"Why?" it was quite honestly the million gil question and the only one that Cloud could formulate without worsening his panic.

Sephiroth sighed and tilted the blond's chin up, forcing blue eyes to meet those of brilliant mako-green. "Because Cloud," he murmured,"I spent a lifetime wishing someone would so the same for me. I wanted, no…needed, someone to save me."

"I don't need…."

"Don't fall into that mindset, Cloud. Everyone needs someone when they fall."

For the first time ever, whether in real life or in his dreams, Cloud saw Sephiroth for what he was: human. Just a man forced to play the role of emotionless god of war, whose fall from grace was not his in the making. He was created and cultivated from birth to be the perfect SOLDIER, an avenging angel whose loyalty never faltered from his creator's. But one cannot make a god out of a mortal.

No matter how hard he tries.

The tiniest of smiles played upon the General's lips as he watched the blond's fear turn into wonder. It was then that Cloud felt the energy leave his body…all the adrenaline fleeing and abandoning him to the weakness of the aftermath. Perhaps…this would not be so terrible. Perhaps…this was a dream rather than a nightmare…

Or, perhaps, he considered with no small amount of dread, this was the start of a life he never had a chance know before.

**A/N: ( This is a twoshot. The next half will fulfill the requirements of the prompt I was given. I hope you have enjoyed it thus far, and am always eager to hear ideas, theories and suggestions.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **

**Goodness…This took longer than expected. Please enjoy. ^_^**

**Pairing(s): **Sephiroth x Cloud with hints of one sided Cloud x Tifa

**Word Count**: 8,711

**Disclaimer: **Nope. I still own nothing but the plotline.

**Letting Go**

**By Catsitta**

**.x.**

"That's when she said,"I don't hate you boy, I just want to save you boy, while there's still something left to save."" _Savior _by Rise Against

.**2**.

Cloud had no idea how exactly it happened.

But it did.

After the blond had calmed down enough, Sephiroth left the Dark Room, the promise of his return heavy in the air. And then, the blond found his life taking a tailspin in the most bizarre direction. One moment he was lying in bed, staring aimlessly into the pitch black void of his room (there was some kind of sensory device that controlled the light), and the next, he was being led through the halls of ShinRa at Sephiroth's heels.

He learned in a brief exchange that the General had been attempting to keep incognito in his association to Cloud. Thus the uniform and the cap. After all, there were few people as recognizable as the One-Winged Angel. His appearance was starkly alien in contrast to even a normal SOLDIER, with his cascade of silver hair, high arched bangs and feline, mako-green eyes. And he could not carry his chosen weapon with him while in disguise because Masamune was as distinct as her master, with a curved blade nearly seven feet in length.

The very fact that he was walking through the halls of ShinRa incorporated was still disturbing to Cloud.

Very disturbing.

Cloud shuddered in revulsion as memories snaked into his conscious mind, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Cloud."

The blond froze and peered up at the General. It still unsettled him to hear that voice. That deep, velvety baritone…Gah! Why did he keep thinking about that? "Yes?" he managed to rasp amidst his internal debate. Sephiroth's slight frown hinted at the fact that the man knew something was wrong. The man was too intelligent and too observant for his own good...

"You seem troubled," the General absently tucked a strand of hair behind his ear before adjusting his cap. "We are both in disguise, if your identity is the reason for concern." Mako-green eyes fluttered shut briefly as Sephiroth muttered something else under his breath. It was then that they reached an elevator. Judging by the number on the keycard Sephiroth pulled from his pocket he could go all the way up to the top of the building.

Fortunately, the number he pressed on the keypad was far from the top.

Then again, why were they getting in an elevator at all? The training facilities and barracks for the "regulars" and new recruits were in another building entirely. Only officers, Turks, businessmen and class ranked SOLDIERs lived, worked, or even breathed the air of the upper floors.

"Where are we going?" Cloud asked, unable to restrain the anxiety building in his mind from slipping into his tone. Then, the elevator began to move, jerking skywards in a manner that reminded the blond distinctly of the early days he spent with AVALANCHE, from the destruction of the reactors, to the fall of the Sector Seven Plate, to this building. These very elevators. His eyes darted towards the digital numbers above the door, and he watched at the red numbers flickered and flashed with every floor change. He could still remember all of the troubles he ran into in these things.

It proved to make him feel very claustrophobic and just a touch motion sick.

With a lot of self-control and a clear, mental reminder that those were memories, Cloud managed to ease his churning stomach. He was not about to be attacked in the elevator by monsters, SOLDIERs or Turks. Not with Sephiroth around…which proved to be an even more unsettling thought than the other three possibilities combined. He was in an elevator—a confined, enclosed space—with his arch enemy turned "rescuer". Cloud still believed the man could turn around and prove that this is all just a mind game he was playing, and then proceed to run him through with Masamune. Again.

Subconsciously, his hand trailed to his chest at the thought, right where Sephiroth stabbed him during the Nibelhiem Incident…and again during the "Advent", while they battled upon the roof, his remnant Kadaj acting as a vessel for Jenova's favored son.

After a few more seconds of silence, Sephiroth placed his hand on Cloud's shoulder, which was not a welcome gesture. The blond shifted away…only to be pulled back, harshly. The General's fingertips were biting deep into his skin, likely leaving bruises. Cloud knew it was too good to be true. He was going to kill him! He was going to!—the elevator door opened, revealing none other than Tseng.

The Turk's eyes raked over them as he entered, almost as if he were trying to peel away their disguises his eyes alone. Knowing him as he did, Cloud was certain the man had a good chance of doing just that. But instead of reacting in a manner that would signal his realizing that he was in the presence of both a General and an escaped patient, Tseng blinked and turned his back to them both as if neither of them were worth telling the time of day.

No wonder Sephiroth had acted in such a manner. Anyone whom entered the elevator had a chance of recognizing one of them and unveiling their identities, especially a Turk. Which meant that the man wanted him close—whether to protect him or to something else, he was slightly uncertain—but the only way Cloud was going to maintain his sanity was by giving him the benefit of the doubt. The blond breathed in deeply, calming himself, before composing his features into that of indifference.

Slowly, the numbers changed and the elevator crawled higher. Time seemed to drag on forever. Cloud closed his eyes, a recent memory echoing inside his thoughts.

_Relax Cloud. I will keep you safe. _

_(Why?)_

_ Because Cloud, I spent a lifetime wishing someone would so the same for me. I wanted, no…needed, someone to save me._

_(I don't need….)_

_Don't fall into that mindset, Cloud. Everyone needs someone when they fall._

**DING!**

Opening his eyes, Cloud saw the elevator doors swish open and a nudge to his shoulder signaled that this was they were getting off. Keeping his eyes on the floor, the swordsman shuffled past Tseng, praying to Gaia that the helmet crammed on his head hid his identity well enough. Even if he was not happy with his current situation, having the Turks pounce on him while he was still vulnerable to being abducted, was the last thing Cloud wanted. It would be a good way of turning his dream (or reality, though he had his fingers crossed in hopes that this was a dream) into a true nightmare.

Soon they were both in the halls and the door shut, shutting the Turk away yet again.

At that point, both he and the silver General let out a sigh of relief.

"I apologize for my secrecy, Cloud. Things will be made clear soon." Sephiroth said, before taking the lead and guiding Cloud through the stark-white hallway. Agitated, the blond glanced up at the fluorescent lights above and at the uniform, numbered doors lining the walls. By his best guess, he was on a residential floor. But why? For another minute, they walked in silence, before Sephiroth held out his arm, signaling Cloud to stop.

Room 73.

The General rapped his knuckles against the door, before once again settling a hand on Cloud's shoulder.

"Will you stop that?" he found himself hissing at Sephiroth, but the SOLDIER had the gall to merely tilt his head to the left and not even pretend to be chastised. Cloud tried to shrug the offending appendage away, but the older man's grip was firm. Creep. Psychopathic creep. Why was he trusting the man in the least? If he were smart, he would take the opportunity to smash his rival's face and run. Lobbing Sephiroth in the face might just wake Cloud up…if not, it'd make him feel a little better. Especially if he managed to leave a mark, even if for just a second or two.

Mako tended to heal bruises rather quickly.

Suddenly, the door swung open wide revealing….an utter stranger.

"Hello," the teenager greeted (he could not be older than eighteen), a knowing smile on his face. Who was this guy? He was unremarkable in most ways, with an average face, curly dark-blond hair, and mako-blue eyes. He wasn't particular broad, stocky, skinny or even tall. And he wore a standard issue, purple Second Class uniform. In fact, the only notable thing about him was his smile—his teeth were obscenely white and the expression itself reminded him of a Turk ready to make someone's life an utter hell.

"SOLDIER Second Class Kunsel Delircy, " Sephiroth began (Wait, did he say Kunsel? The guy who never took off his helmet, ever?). "Meet SOLDIER Third Class Cloud Strife."

"Nice to meet you Cloud," Kunsel continued to grin and he held out his hand for Cloud to shake. "I've heard so much about you."

"From who?"

"Why Zack of course!" the SOLDIER reached out and grabbed Cloud's hand, before shaking it as if it had been willingly offered. "You're his backwater buddy…from Nibelhiem, right? You two bonded over the helicopter crash in Modeohiem. It's good you made it into SOLDIER. He needs his friends around him."

Zack…Cloud felt his blood run cold. Zack was alive? He was here? But what was wrong with him? The way Kunsel had said that last sentence it was as if his old friend were in some kind of trouble.

"Why?" it was all the blond could manage.

With a confused tilt to his head, Kunsel said,"Don't you know? His mentor Angeal Hewley is…no longer with us."

Flashes of memories not his own hit Cloud like a freight train. The part of him that was, and always would be Zack, recoiled at those words. He forcibly remembered each moment of abandonment and betrayal, the having to pick up his mentor's sword and strike down the man he idolized. The man whom ingrained into him that honor, respect and dreams were the most important virtues to uphold, not only as a SOLDIER, but as a man.

"Cloud? Cloud? Hey buddy, you're not looking too good."

"He's recovering from the enhancement process." Sephiroth offered none too helpfully. "I trust that you can handle Strife from here."

"Yeah, of course sir. I took care of Zack when he received his initial shots and when he underwent the mako shower a few weeks back."

"You have heard of his…tendencies, yes?"

"Hard not for someone with my sources not to hear about Cloud's antics. Heard he made a real impression on the hospital staff."

"Take care that those "antics" are discontinued."

"He seems sane enough, sir. I don't think I have to worry about the kid knifing me in my sleep or jumping out of the window." Kunsel chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Cloud's torso, lifting the smaller male with ease. Cloud, very nauseated by the influx of information, permitted the manhandling. Standing had proven a difficult task. "Just in case he does something weird, I'll take care of it. As long as you push the paperwork to make this all legit, I'll make sure Cloudy here will be in tip-top, SOLDIER shape by the end of the week. I guarantee it!"

"You will keep him far away from Hojo and the Turks?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you for discretion…Kunsel."

"Thank you for trusting my intuition, Sephiroth, sir." he flashed his pearly whites. "This kid has too much potential to become one of Hojo's lab rats."

Cloud could feel the air temperature drop a few degrees and he recalled their earlier conversation. Sephiroth knew his past with Hojo, basing it upon Cloud's reactions to the scientist's name as well as the extreme mako enhancement displayed as compared to the standard dosage given. Apparently, this was his charity. He was saving Cloud from Hojo like some guardian angel by putting the blond in a situation that protected him. By placing Cloud in SOLDIER and into the care of a SOLDIER, he believed he could redeem whatever sins he was compensating for.

Awesome…

Not.

Soon, Sephiroth was walking away, leaving Cloud alone with Kunsel, Zack's friend and resident gossip. From what Cloud could filter from his hazy memories, Zack believed the SOLDIER should have been a Turk since the man was a massive snoop with more sources and hacking skills than Tseng.

"Now, let's get you settled in buddy."

Cloud, fatigued and sick to his stomach, acquiesced.

.x.

The next few weeks were a blur and with every passing day, he began to suspect that he wasn't dreaming.

Kunsel played doctor until Cloud literally smacked him upside the head and told him he was fine. At which point the SOLDIER made a game out of punching Cloud, usually in the arm or shoulder, and goading the swordsman until he hit back. Said something about it being a bonding experience that would build confidence and help Cloud adjust to SOLDIER life. Apparently, it was common for the upper classes of SOLDIER to smack around the lower classes, and would usually greet someone of lesser rank (or newly promoted rank) by punching them.

There was a reason why Cloud never hung around guys very often, before he joined the army or after he had "saved" the world. He never quite understood the reasoning behind the rough-and-tumble "manly-men" games in which the strongest, and usually stupidest, one wins. But, Kunsel never let Cloud back out of meeting new people and literally threw him to the wolves on a few occasions. He'd say it was a sink or swim situation, but he barely felt the friendly blows the men landed on him and he knew that they felt the bruises he left in return for the next week. So, it all evened out after a while.

Also, while he was socializing Cloud, Kunsel began testing the blond's skills. It took a few hours for the swordsman to get reacquainted with a blade, given that this body of his, while strong, was smaller than he was used to and the sword in his hands was unfamiliar and poorly balanced. And it did not help he was growing, which meant that every so often, in the middle of training, Cloud would simply fall flat on his face like an idiot.

Kunsel would laugh. Then Cloud would jump to his feet and make him regret it. Which always surprised the Second, given that the blond was supposed to be a recently promoted, klutzy Cadet with a great amount of potential but little actual skill. However, he never said a word about Cloud's incredible strength or his newfound skill set. His being a blade master was none of his concern, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy having the Third lay him out.

Then came the missions.

At first he was terrified that someone on the administrative floor would report him. But Director Lazard merely handed him his mission report and went on with his business. Not even the Turks bothered him, which was unusual. The kid who was in a coma due to mako shots, suddenly wakes up and attacks the guards, going as far as to almost kill an officer, ends up in the Dark Room, then mysteriously disappears before popping up as a registered SOLDIER—should have sent alarm bells in their heads. They should have long since drug him kicking-and-screaming into questioning. But no…

Eventually he calmed down, and took each given mission with a nod and a smile.

Not that the entire path was waved with roses, although it might have been had Cloud not the paranoid freak that he was. Everything was going too well. Life was too perfect. People kept looking away too often. It made him nervous, and a nervous Cloud was one that did things he shouldn't if he wanted to preserve what remained of his SOLDIER veneer.

He SHOULD keep his head down and play it safe. He SHOULD accept this new life of his without question. He SHOULD become a perfect, little mindless drone. Instead, Cloud began to plot and plan his escape. He would play along with ShinRa's whims for a little while longer, then, he would get the hell out. Despite this being the dream of his youth, living it with his foresight was an utter nightmare. Each moment of good was quickly outweighed by all of the terrible things he knew were soon to come.

Thus, as his first month as a SOLDIER drew to a close, Cloud gathered his belongings, ready to leave the company and never look back. He couldn't live the lie any longer. This dream—this new reality—was too much for him handle whilst standing idly by, doing nothing. He had to escape…

"Cloud? What are you doing?"

The blond pulled his prepared pack over one shoulder and lifted his sword with the other,"I'm leaving, Kunsel."

"You can't."

"Try to stop me," Cloud dared.

Kunsel sighed and leaned against the doorframe,"Cloud. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Cloud, I'm not an idiot." He was quite the opposite. "I know that something happened to you between the SOLDIER exam and your waking up in the hospital. I've read your psychological file. I've trained with you. I know you. And you are not the same kid that stumbled through the exams a month ago." Kunsel crossed his arms, his face serious. "Something happened, Cloud, something big. Something so big that Sephiroth put his reputation on the line to keep it a secret and to protect you from said secret."

"You wouldn't understand."

"No. I wouldn't. But I know someone who does and he's on the way now."

"What!"

Kunsel had the gall to smirk,"Subtle you are not, Cloud. I've known you've been up to something for a week."

No argument ensued. Neither of them needed to speak to realize that this was a lost battle on Cloud's part. But the blond did not drop his belongings, not even when Sephiroth filled the doorway, confusion on that beautiful face of his. For a man that was supposed to be an elusive mystery, an untouchable idol, he seemed rather…involved. Those eyes that Cloud was so used to being filled with ice and cruelty were open, warm and pitying. It reminded the blond of how one might observe an abused puppy that refused to lick his new owner's hand.

He hated it. He did not want pity. He did not need it. He wanted his old, miserable life back! At least then he knew for certain what to expect around the corner and his biggest concerns revolved around whether or not he would actually manage to get intoxicated. Why did he have to be a SOLDIER? Why did his childhood dreams have to come back and haunt him!

Sephiroth said nothing as he approached, and at some point Kunsel disappeared. But Cloud did not care. He could handle Sephiroth. He had done it before….He…Two arms were wrapped around his shoulders, stealing away both Cloud's thoughts and his breath. Was the One-Winged Angel hugging him? Oh Gaia! He could fucking HEAR Jenova screeching for reunion. Her cells begged for the union of her chosen son and his clone…his imperfect copy.

The silver-haired swordsman did not seem to notice, but Cloud wanted to scream. He did not want to deal with this. After all of those years of being free of the bitch, she was back. Why did she have to be back?

"Cloud."

"Let go of me."

"Stop struggling, it is alright. You are safe. I will protect you."

Those eyes. Those terrible eyes. They were too close. They burned too green. They were too…human.

Cloud shuddered. This man was not the same that he struck down time and time again. This man was vibrant, alive, full of dreams and passion. This was a piece of the man that lied within the cold heart of the monster. And he was willingly showing it Cloud. He was laying himself open, vulnerable.

"Why do you trust me?" he found himself asking, his tone bitter.

Sephiroth pressed closer, his silver bangs brushing against Cloud's face,"I told you. I want to help, and to do that, I need you to trust me…to know that you can fall and I will catch you."

"I'm a stranger. You know nothing about me."

A small, sad smile crept upon his lips,"I feel that I know you, Cloud. From somewhere. Because I see in you what I see in myself." The way he said those words were more than slightly unsettling. It was downright creepy. Cloud would have preferred it if the silver General ignored him and acted as if he were some insignificant peon.

That, and did he even know what personal space was? Sephiroth was way too close for comfort. "Could you just…back off? Leave me alone." Cloud pushed forcefully against the silver SOLDIER's chest, employing his enhancements instinctively. Mako burned hot and brief in his blood. Unfortunately, with his proximity to Sephiroth, his Jenova cells cried out for reunion yet again. This had not been a problem a month ago. In fact, Cloud had long since come to believe the alien cells to be dormant due to Aerith's healing rain. Great Gospel cleansed everyone, including him, of Geostigma…Jenova's taint in the Lifestream. Apparently it could not purge the depths of his body from the curse.

Gritting his teeth, the blond ignored the call. It had been bothering him ever since Sephiroth walked in the room…but the intensity was overwhelming when his cells were burning with mako and adrenaline. It was unbelievably tempting to succumb to her siren song and melt into his rival's arms. After all, her son was so beautiful, and had been so kind…and his body was so close, so warm. Those perfect lips so near…

Gaia! Cloud snapped into reality just a second soon enough. His traitorous body was unconsciously leaning into Sephiroth's touch, and he knew for a fact he must have given the man a doe-eyed look as his thoughts were muddled with nonsense. The silver-haired swordsman was staring at him with a particularly puzzled expression on his face…his countenance dangerously closer to Cloud's than it had been a split second earlier. They were close enough to kiss should one of them lean forwards a hair. But neither dared. However, their breath intermingled for a few heartbeats, before Cloud fully regained himself and gave Sephiroth another shove. This time, he succeeded in pushing the man away.

"Leave me alone," he said, though he heard the hollowness of his tone. So much like a troubled boy, Cloud sounded, and it irked him to no end. By Gaia, he wanted a drink. He wanted to drown out his misery…his confusion. He wanted to calm his frayed nerves and fill the stark emptiness that was growing in his heart. Sephiroth. Jenova. SOLDIER. It was simply too much for the Planet's Savior to handle, again.

A hesitant, gloved hand came to rest on his face.

Cloud did not have the energy to scowl or rip himself away. The post-mako burn leaving him woozy and fatigued.

"A friend of mine once told me that touch can heal someone that is broken, just as easily as that same touch can cause the brokenness." Sephiroth began. "I called the boy a fool. Yet, as I reflect, I can see the wisdom of his words." He allowed the hand to slide away and rest on Cloud's shoulder. "You loathe touch. You fear it. You were broken and you believe that you cannot be repaired."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know enough, Cloud. For we are the same."

"I'm not your redemption," the blond found himself saying bitterly.

"No. You're not. You're my savior—"

"What?" Cloud started.

"—for you have given me purpose again."

Startled by Sephiroth's implications and his bizarre behavior, the blond shook his head and backed away. Those eyes. Those too human, too green eyes. They were earnest, bright with hope and understanding. They were not the cold, calculating eyes he recognized. They were not dead of remorse or other emotion. They were different, frightening. And those words…the way they were spoken, what they meant.

"Cloud."

Turning, Cloud ran, his pack sliding from his shoulder onto the floor. His only thoughts that of escape. He knew he was fast. But Sephiroth proved faster. Just as he reached the middle of the apartment's living area—where Kunsel sat dozing on the couch, one leg crooked and resting on the back, the opposite arm dangling above the floor—Sephiroth rounded him and looped one arm about Cloud's waist.

He wanted to pound his fists against the larger male's back and shoulders. He wanted to kick, yell and cry. He wanted to throw an absolute fit. But he didn't. All of his pent up emotions swirled and collapsed upon each other, rendering Cloud utterly numb. Thus, he went limp and drew in shallow, uneven breaths.

"Cloud?" it was Kunsel. "Geesh, kid, you look awful. C'mon. Let's get you to bed."

A second set of arms wrapped around him, though the first seemed reluctant to release their hold. For a short time, he found himself ensconced in warmth, two bodies, each familiar. Kunsel in front of him, new and predictable. Sephiroth behind him, old but unsettling.

"He is still unwell," Sephiroth murmured, at last relinquishing his hold.

"I've done what I could, sir. He seems alright most of the time, but his actions make no sense to me."

"He fears me."

"You have quite the reputation, sir. Anyone outside of SOLDIER would believe you a heartless machine. Even those within the program view you as untouchable…at least, until you pull the proverbial stick out of your ass and grace us commoners with your presence."

"I have shown him the truth. What am I doing wrong for him to act as he does?"

Kunsel knelt and gathered Cloud into his arms, the bend of one elbow beneath the blond's knees. "I thought you'd know, sir. After all, it's you who put everything on the line for the kid. It's you who placed Cloud into SOLDIER. It's you who seems attached to him at the hip."

The silver General shook his head in an impression of defeat.

It was then that Cloud closed his eyes, wishing away this twisted new reality.

.x.

After the incident with Sephiroth, Cloud became subdued. Quiet. He reverted to his usual self and encased his chaotic emotions within an impenetrable shell. Escape from ShinRa suddenly lost its appeal. As did remaining with SOLDIER. All he could think about was a certain silver SOLDIER, his thoughts shifting between good and bad. After a while, everything became muddled. Old memories and new collided and conflicted, throwing the blond through rigorous flashbacks and debilitating nightmares.

Every moment of childhood admiration was painted red with adult horror and hate. He remembered the ignorant longing of his young heart, how he believed himself in love with his flawless idol. He recalled each time Masamune pierced his chest, steel caressing the wildly throbbing organ within. He could taste blood in his mouth. The halls around him were shadowed and wickedly bent.

He couldn't take it!

It was the middle of the day, and ShinRa incorporated was bustling. But Cloud was alone, despite the crowd, and despite his best efforts, he fell to his knees, fingers curled in his hair.

"Woah there, little buddy." A friendly smile entered his line of sight. "What's wrong?"

"Zack?" Cloud croaked.

Another smile.

For some reason. All thoughts of Sephiroth fled his mind.

.x.

Life proved more bearable with Zack in it. He chattered endlessly, usually about girls and working out, and it filled the dreadful silence. All of the bad things that haunted the blond seemed outshined by the raven-haired First Class' inner light. It soothed him in the same way that Sephiroth made his hair stand up on end. And it was nice…no, more than that, it was wonderful!

After recovering from the initial shock of his dead friend greeting him in a hallway, very much alive, a pure joy filled Cloud that he hadn't felt since he first joined SOLDIER as a shy, fourteen year old recruit. In fact, he was so happy, the swordsman blissfully allowed the following months to pass right under his nose. Nibelhiem did not even cross his mind until over a year later, shortly after his sixteenth birthday, when Lazard called him and Zack into his office, a mission in hand.

By this time, Cloud had been promoted to Second, and he was well used to being called to duty. But now…as he listened to the Director drone on about the details, he felt an icy chill creep into his very bones. A chill that had not visited him since he last saw Sephiroth. Speaking of whom…

The man stood at the corner of the room, his eyes hooded with boredom. They had not spoken much since that day he had stopped Cloud from abandoning ShinRa, and while it had been a comfort to not deal with the overbearing presence of the man, the blond suspected that their business was far from settled. There were times where he could hear Jenova whispering, her siren song enchanting, signaling that Sephiroth was all too near.

What was strange about this phenomena, of hearing the alien speak to him and his very cells unconsciously routing him towards her chosen son, was not experiencing it. No, it was the fact that Sephiroth seemed utterly unaware and unaffected. Perhaps it was because he was the source of the draw, rather than a satellite being pulled into the mother body. But that would likely change should he enter Nibelhiem. The cells of Jenova's vassal inherently wished to bond with her fossilized corpse, but without telekinetic influence from the body (which had a proximity), Sephiroth was without reason to "reunite". His very active cells were ignorant of Jenova's will, content with their current form…which was good. It meant that the SOLDIER did not hear "Mother" in his head and want to destroy the world.

However, the question of why Cloud's cells awakened was an unanswered question…Maybe, they had always been awake. Aware. After all, he had sensed Sephiroth during his stay in the Dark Room. At first he had dismissed his awareness as his familiarity with the silver General's stride and form, but now…now he was thinking that maybe, they had been drawn together by their cells. Sephiroth's inexplicable behavior and attitude was a little more fathomable if that were true. On an unconscious level, the silver-haired warrior wouldn't view Cloud as a threat, no, he would view him as a brother. Someone like him. Someone that needed him. Someone that was innately apart of him.

Someone he could touch.

Gaia! That was why the man had been invading his personal space so much. The Reunion instinct was affecting him! His cells drew them close. They manipulated his thoughts. He would want to touch and hold predominantly due to the instinctive desire to unite. To bond. To become one.

Cloud shivered at this realization.

Trouble was lurking…and there was nothing he could do. Except do his damndest to keep Sephiroth out of Nibelhiem.

Thus as the meeting drew to a close, Cloud lingered behind, telling Zack to go ahead without him. The raven-haired SOLDIER grinned and waved, before trotting off to prepare for the mission, leaving the blond alone in the hallway. That is, until Sephiroth emerged, silent and regal.

"General Sephiroth," he began. "may I have a moment of your time? I need to speak with you, sir."

Slowly, the man drew to a stop and quirked his head almost imperceptibly to the left,"Why the formalities, Cloud?" A shiver crawled down the blond's spine. Sephiroth seemed to caress his name as he spoke, and it rattled him to no end to know that the man's voice still affected him so.

"…Apologies, Sephiroth." Cloud continued, attempting to ignore the way those eyes were watching him. In the hazy, artificial light, those mako-bright eyes seemed to gleam with predatory intent. "But my reason for formality is due to the fact that I have little idea of how to approach, what I am about to say next, in any other way without sounding ignorant or presumptuous."

"Hm. You know other words than: Leave me alone and Go away. I'm impressed by your progress, Cloud." A smirk, small and sly crept upon those perfect lips of his. How much like an angel he appeared. Unattainable, cold perfection…yet so real. Warm and close enough to reach out and touch…

Cloud blinked. His thoughts had betrayed him yet again.

"I…You mock me…" he cleared his throat. "But we digress. Sephiroth, you cannot go on this next mission. Actually, neither of us should." Jenova would likely attack Cloud if given half a chance. "The danger is too great."

"A reactor needs minor repair and some monsters need eliminating, where is this danger, for I see none?"

A pause.

"Do you trust me?"

"Despite your best efforts to make it not so…I do. I always have. We are alike Cloud. We need each other. And with that need comes a required amount of trust. A better question to be asked, Cloud, is do you trust me?"

He wanted to say no, but in an ironic way, Cloud did trust Sephiroth. He trusted him to be an unpredictable force of nature, which would as soon stab him through the back as he would wrap Cloud up in his arms. "Yes. I do trust you."

"Then why have you avoided me these past few months? I know two of your birthdays have passed, and neither occasion seemed to warrant your interest in my company. Instead, you clung to Zack as if his friendship were your lifeblood." Those eyes of his were narrow. His tone sharp. It took a moment to register, but Cloud swore that Sephiroth sounded jealous. "Avoidance does not bespeak of trust. And after everything I have done for you…my confusion should be easy to understand."

Cloud resisted the temptation to drop his gaze. The silver General loomed above him, dark and dangerous, emanating an ominous energy. Barely bridled emotions bubbled beneath the surface of that cool façade. Those too human eyes betray that fact. Why did Sephiroth have to act and look so human? Why? "It is difficult for me to explain," he confessed. "However, I will offer no apology. Zack is my friend and you—"

"—and I am your General."

"Yes. I both respect and trust you, Sephiroth."

"But you do not view me as a friend. I see."

Betrayal intermingled with jealousy his silky tone. Cloud wanted to smack himself for his idiocy. Sephiroth was still recovering from the abandonment of his only friends in the world, was contemplating defecting from ShinRa and was in a fragile state of mentality. Now was not the time to inform the man that his attentions were unwanted and his efforts meaningless, especially if he was to gain any ground in convincing the SOLDIER to stay away from the mission.

"Sephiroth…" it came out as nothing more than a whisper.

With an air of nonchalance, the swordsman retorted, "Cloud."

"Gaia!" Cloud could not help the explosion of his temper or voice. This man was infuriating! Quite honestly he'd rather work with the insane man he was familiar with than the pouty child before him. "Can we just…I don't know. Start over? It's been difficult for me to adjust given the circumstances, and with you being so overprotective and…I just need you to listen to me."

"There is no need to step backwards in our conversation, Cloud." Sephiroth drew a few steps closer so as to place a hand on the blond's shoulder. For the first time he did not flinch or pull away. "I made assumptions. I imposed myself upon you. Do know, however, that I never regret my actions." He leaned forwards, again invading Cloud's personal space. "Even if you do not consider me a friend, I do not regret for a moment, rescuing you. Trusting you. Needing you." His pitch dropped to a dangerously sensual note,"Wanting you."

"Woah!" Cloud leapt back. "That was not where I was expecting this conversation to go."

Sephiroth's posture stiffened, "I apologize for my forwardness. It was entirely inappropriate."

After a moment, the blond managed to calm himself and look his one-time idol in the eyes,"Look, Sephiroth. I trust you. I'm grateful you rescued me and gave me a chance as a SOLDIER. Heck, I'm even grateful you stopped me from leaving the company. You gave me a chance to live out a dream of mine that I thought died a long time ago. I'm flattered you want to be friends. But—"

"—you wish us to be nothing more."

"Sephiroth, when did you get it in your head that—" his protests were cut off with a kiss.

It was dry and chaste. A brief touching of their lips. However, the silver-haired warrior lingered close, his every inch radiating a desire to repeat the gesture. Why was this happening? Cloud had seen nothing beyond platonic affection from Sephiroth before this moment.

Panicked, the blond shuffled backwards,"You just apologized for making an inappropriate advance! What exactly do you consider that?"

"Taking a chance," he replied softly. "Tell me Cloud. Is it my reputation that drives you away? Our difference in age or rank? Do you think me a predator, a pedophile, for wanting you as I do?"

"Sephiroth, look, I'm flattered. But I like girls. I'm straight."

"You're lying."

Cloud nearly choked on that particular accusation,"Excuse me?"

"You're lying."

"Okay…I'm seriously trying to figure out where we went off track. This conversation started with me asking you to decline the Nibelhiem mission. How did we get to my sexual orientation?"

Another pause, longer than the first, ensued. Sephiroth pursed his lips and studied Cloud, clearly wanting this conversation to be brought to a close. His shoulders, so broad and strong, were bowed forwards a degree, as if resigned. However, he was not the kind of man that accepted defeat. He was bred for competition and perseverance, no task too difficult to complete or conquer. If he wanted something, no one would change that desire nor would they be able to convince him against its pursuit.

This fact made things slightly more difficult and great deal more awkward.

"A favor for a favor," Sephiroth began.

"Pardon?"

"A favor for a favor. I will decline the Nibelhiem mission, without further questioning, if you will grant a favor in return. No questions asked."

"You'd be willing to refuse the mission…just like that?"

The silver-haired SOLDIER inclined his head affirmatively.

Cloud frowned,"What favor do you have in mind for in return?"

A small, wry smile worked its way onto Sephiroth's lips,"No questions asked, Cloud. You must trust my intentions as I have trusted yours."

A brief silence and a handshake later, the destiny of a one-winged angel changed course.

.x.

Alone, Zack tended to the Nibelhiem mission. He called often, informing Cloud how horrible he was for refusing the mission and how boring the mountain village was turning out to be. Aside from the excess of snow, the SOLDIER did not seem to have much to complain about. Even the repair of the reactor went smoothly, almost as if there were nothing strange to be found…no monsters kept secured in the dark.

This proved a great comfort to Cloud, whom was still uncertain how to handle the Jenova situation or the latest development with Sephiroth. At least the alien wouldn't get her nasty tentacles on the General any time soon…but that left him dealing with the uncomfortable fact that warrior wanted more than to be friends. He wanted more than to find his redemption or a new chance for hope…And likely, it was the J-cells messing with his mind.

Poor fool. Poor, insane fool.

_At least he's an attractive fool_; the thought sprang from nowhere as Cloud ended his latest call with Zack and laid down the PHS on the arm of Kunsel's couch. Which, proved startling, and led to the blond smacking himself upside the head. Good thing his fellow Second Class SOLDIER wasn't home. His roommate, while a likeable person, was too pry for anyone's sanity. Kunsel pestered and prowled, shooting intimate questions left and right under a paper-thin guise. If it weren't for that helmet he insisted on wearing (even while inside his own quarters a majority of the time), Cloud would have long ago bashed the man's head in out of annoyance.

With a heavy sigh, he slumped against the cushions and closed his eyes.

_Cloud._

_ (Something wrong, Tifa?)_

_ The brunette approached hesitantly, her sable eyes tinted wine by the sunset's fiery glow. It had been a few months since Meteor, and this was the first time they'd spoken in weeks. With Tifa arranging the construction of a new bar in Edge, and Cloud out on the road, coping with his losses and identity crisis, there had been little time to simply sit and talk. _

_ You've been avoiding me, Cloud._

_ (I've been busy. You know I would never avoid you, Tifa.)_

_ I know you better than that, she told him. The shadows danced across the smooth planes of her face. You run away to cope. If you're not running from your problems, you're wallowing in them. Don't you understand…I worry about you, Cloud. I miss you. I wonder every night if you're going to come home._

_ (Home. Is there one for us anymore?)_

_ Yes, there is. Stay, Cloud. Stay in Edge and we'll make things work. _

_ (I can't.)_

_ You can't or you won't?_

_ (Tifa…)_

_ Stop pretending like you don't understand! she cried, balling her fists. A small gust of wind caught the ends of her hair, sweeping them to-and-fro. Cloud, I told you before we fought Sephiroth. I love you. I can't imagine my life without you._

_ (I'm not the man you want me to be…)_

_ You're not a monster! You can love. Tifa reached forwards and gripped the lapels of Cloud's jacket, before yanking him into a forceful kiss. She then pulled away, trembling, tears glistening in eyes that had been dry for years. You still love HER, don't you? That's why you ignore me._

_ (That's not it…TIfa!)_

_ But she was already gone, running away as fast as she could. Absently, he touched his lips, a strange conflict storming within. Perhaps it was a result of stress or some twisted syndrome that only his particular situation could create, but it was not a linger love for Aerith that kept him from loving Tifa. It was a denial for a deeper love. A secret, forbidden love that he had long ago buried deep until he'd all but forgotten the still burning embers. _

_ It sickened him, his own disgusting obsession. _

_ (I'm a monster. Monsters can't fall in love with beautiful women. They can only lust…and that lust is held for their own kind. Other monsters. Other twisted creations that feel no love. Because only they understand.)_

Cloud opened his eyes, his entirety aching from the old memory. How they haunted his sleep as of late. Gingerly, he touched his lips, just as he did in the dream. The kiss Tifa gave him had left him feeling hollow. As had the kiss Aerith had placed upon him in the Temple of the Ancients. During his youth, he had yearned for beautiful girls to kiss him. However, the two that offered him their hearts, while stunning, never affected him. Never broke through the pain and disillusion.

It was agonizing to admit, but Sephiroth's chaste yet impulsive kiss, his declaration of affection, it rattled the blond. After a week, he still felt those perfect lips upon his own. Old adoration seeped to the surface, hot and overwhelming, and like gasoline fueled the fire set by the meager match of new desire. The silver-haired swordsman was his idol growing up, and as an adult, he became a hated enemy. But now, as he lingered between childhood and adulthood, Cloud realized that neither image of the man held true any longer.

He did not adore Sephiroth as if he were a god. Nor did he despise the man. He was wary of his one-time rival, even a touch frightened. But he respected Sephiroth. He trusted him. And, Cloud was embarrassed to admit, he felt something more. He cared for him. He wanted to know more about the man. He wanted to protect the General from all the evils that made him into a monster, because the human side of him was too precious a thing to lose. The man deserved a chance to be happy and to be loved.

And if that were true, didn't that mean Cloud deserved his happiness to?

As he leapt to his feet and left the room, a flash of insight crashed into him like a thunderclap.

"I love him," he whispered. "I think I always have…Gaia! I'm crazy."

Old memories intermingled with new as he ran down the hallways of ShinRa incorporated. He thought of all the things that went wrong, and all of the guilt that weighed heavy on his heart. There were so many things that he blamed himself for that were not his fault at all. And now, he had a chance to fix everything. He could free Vincent. Kill Hojo. Stop Deepground. Prevent the Sector Seven Plate from falling. After all, he'd recently just stopped the Nibelhiem incident, essentially adverting Crisis. Sephiroth was sane. His hometown was intact. Tifa was safe. Aerith and Zack had a chance of actually living and starting a life together…Oh, the possibilities! How had he not seen them before?

Filled with happiness, Cloud reveled in the glow of this second chance, thanking anyone who could have been involved.

He was still crazy for falling in love with Sephiroth. He was even crazier for considering giving the man a chance with his heart. But Cloud refused to lose this opportunity at making everything right, no matter how weird the circumstances.

A few minutes and an elevator ride later found the blond outside of the silver-haired General's office.

Just as the blond lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing the room's sole occupant. Those too human, too green eyes stared down at him and after a pause, the man tilted his head to the left.

"I wanted to say thank you," Cloud began.

Sephiroth blinked,"For what?"

"For everything. For rescuing me. For putting me in SOLDIER. For giving me a chance at my dreams. For trusting me…I can never thank you enough for trusting me."

"Does this mean you forgive me for my advances?"

Cloud answered with a kiss.

.x.

A crazy thing happened when Cloud stopped believing himself in a nightmare and stopped fighting the flow of events. His dreams came true. All of them.

ShinRa fell. A new government taking its place. The usage of mako soon became discontinued as new sources of energy were researched and employed. All of his friends found their happy endings…even Cid, whose desire to be the first man in space became a reality just last week. At his side throughout thick-and-thin, stood Sephiroth. Trust grew into a mutual love that would forever stand the test of time.

Or so Cloud would like to believe.

As he navigated the halls of Neo Midar Electric, his thoughts swimming with how to best dispose of Jenova's corpse, the swordsman found himself pulled backwards into a broad chest. The blond grinned. "Hello Sephiroth."

"Cloud," how he had come to love the way Sephiroth said his name.

Like he did every day, the silver-haired warrior dipped his head and caught his lover's lips with his own. Flooded with sensation, Cloud reveled in the gesture, proud to have captured the heart of this loving, wonderful man. As they parted, catching their breath, Sephiroth smiled. Except, this wasn't his typical smile. No, it possessed a sinister edge that startled Cloud, almost causing him to leap away.

Next thing he knew, he was being pressed against a wall, the silver-haired warrior looming above him. Soft lips skimmed the shell of his ear, calloused hands traced familiar paths with their caress, causing Cloud to relax. It was a game. His lover occasionally enjoyed to play. Thus he did not fight as those sensual lips left his ear to collide with his own.

It was rough, demanding and wonderful. He would never stop desiring this man…never. He would hold onto him forever.

"Cloud," whispered Sephiroth as they parted. "there is something you need to know…" he leaned close, effectively trapping the blond against the wall.

"Hm?"

"…it's all a dream."

And with that, the world crumbled to pieces, crashing all around the swordsman like broken shards of glass. Cloud stared, uncomprehending. Soon, only he and Sephiroth remained against a backdrop of green.

_…a favor for a favor, Cloud. I would like to make good on your side of the bargain._

_(What? What's going on?)_

_Let everything go, Cloud. Your doubt. Your guilt. Your anger. Your hate. Your grief. Your past. Your memories. You identity. Leave it all behind and forge a new beginning. _

_(Sephiroth?)_

_The silver-haired SOLDIER took a step backwards into the wide expanse of green. Let go of everything. Even me._

Cloud opened his eyes.

He lay on plaid sheets. All around him were little knickknacks and photographs. And sunshine poured in through the window, illuminating the room. As the swordsman sat up, he noted that he was fully clothed and that at some point, someone (likely Tifa) had pulled a blanket over him. Slowly, he took in his surroundings and absently scratched his head, banishing the last remnants of the previous evening's ache.

Downstairs, Cloud could hear the commotion of a new day. Tifa was chattering to Denzel as she moved about the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Then, Barret's daughter, Marlene, entered the mix with a squeal of laughter.

"It was all…a dream."

He felt a tightening in his chest, cold and consuming. Of course it was a dream. Time travel was not real, and even if it were, who in their right mind would send Cloud of all people back to fix things? He was a total wreck! He would just screw things up like the first time…He…

He was living in the past.

He needed to let go of his guilt and move on.

But it was hard. So freaking hard! He couldn't do it! He…he…

"Cloud! Breakfast." Tifa shouted up the stairs. Carefully, he untangled himself from the sheets and opened the bedroom door, to find the brunette staring up at him from the lower floor. She smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

_When will you grow up and take responsibility, Cloud? When will YOU let go of your nightmares? The past is the past, when will YOU stop living in it?_

_Let everything go, Cloud. Your doubt. Your guilt. Your anger. Your hate. Your grief. Your past. Your memories. You identity. Leave it all behind and forge a new beginning. _

_Everyone needs someone when they fall._

_I need you, Cloud._

Raking his fingers through his hair, the blue-eyed swordsman offered a small smile and a nod,"Yeah. I slept great. Maybe I'll take up you're offer to stay here more often."

Something bright and hopeful glittered in those sable eyes,"I'd like that."

"And Tifa…"

"Yes?"

Cloud took a few steps down the stairs,"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me realize something very important. I'm living in the past and I need to let go." He thought for a moment about his childhood dreams and his realized love of the man he declared an enemy. No longer did the fury burn. No longer did he feel hate. If only things had been different…but they weren't. It was time to make the best of what he had and carve out a future worth living. "But I can't do it alone."

Tifa reached up towards him and Cloud returned her gesture, catching those scarred fingers between his own.

"I need your help, Tifa. I need your help to become a better man."

**fin**

**A/N: (The end. I hope you all enjoyed the story, and yes, I realize I made Sephiroth a touch OOC, and I'll admit I took liberties with his personality with my sole excuse being that this was an extended dream sequence. Anywho~**

**Here's my prompt (paraphrased):**

**Cloud and Tifa have a fight at Tifa's bar because he refuses to let go of the past. She offers him to stay in his room above the bar, and for once, he accepts. He passes out, and next thing he knows, he's in the past. After getting over his shock, Cloud decides to fix things and make everything right. He makes it into SOLDIER, befriends Zack, rescues Vincent, kills Hojo, saves Sephiroth…etc. Along the way, he addresses his childhood crush on Sephiroth, falls in love, etc. and eventually gets the man of his dreams. One day, after everything is said and done, Sephiroth pulls Cloud into his office for a make-out session, but interrupts everything by saying,"I need to tell you something, Cloud…It's all a dream." Cloud wakes up and hears Tifa with the kids downstairs. He then realizes that he had been living in the past, and that Tifa had been right all along, and decides its time to let go.**

**Phew. So yeah~**

**Reviews are lovely. ^_^)**


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